


when the sun breaks free

by acceptnosubstitutes



Category: Falling Skies
Genre: Angst, Gen, Reflection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-17
Updated: 2014-07-17
Packaged: 2018-02-09 05:31:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1970763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acceptnosubstitutes/pseuds/acceptnosubstitutes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To be honest, Ben didn't expect to be affected by it this much. He's not Hal. But it doesn't seem to matter, he supposes, when it's family. Hal was always closer to their mother too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	when the sun breaks free

The flower twirls between the pads of his fingers. Missing nearly half its petals, half-wilted, it looks pathetic really. But Ben can't find the strength to go find another. So, it'll have to do.

He probably wouldn't care. Not really a flowers kind of a guy, Ben thinks. Sometimes though, standing on ceremony is important.

It'll do.

Ben grimaces, rubbing absentmindedly at the back of his neck. His spikes only go up so far, but for some reason, whenever they so much as twitch his neck is the part that aches. Itches.

It does, however, usually let him know someone is staring at him. With not so pleasant thoughts in mind.

Ben doesn't need to look up to know who it is. Doesn't need to, but does anyway.

Sure enough, there's John Pope, brown eyes focused on him with an intensity usually reserved for aliens. But, a chuckle under his breathe, Ben's an alien too now. He guesses.

Pope's eyes narrow at the sound. He shifts his weight forward. Ben lifts his head up further.

But it's Denny who attaches herself to Ben's side, puts an arm around him and squeezes him tight, once. She refuses to let go, refuses to quit staring Pope down until the convict snorts and moves on.

Ben's gaze drops back to the ground the moment she does let go. They hadn't known, not even his dad, what religious (if any) practice to call on, so the grave marker is a simple wooden cross. Like Mike's was.

“Someone you knew?” she asks, nudging his shoulder.

“Not as long as my brothers,” Ben shrugs,” well, not as long as Hal, anyway.”

Because it's only been so long since Ben woke up in the mornings and smiled at an alien. Didn't really remember he had brothers. A father. 

And Ben only really knew Dai for a year. Less than a year even.

But he gets why Hal loved him. Ben's perceptive. He knows. So, he gets why his brother _loved_ Dai.

None of the adults ever said anything, about the spikes on Ben's back. To his face. That got reserved for Rick.

Glares. Sneered comments behind his back. The whispers. The eyes that always followed him around.

And Rick might have been different, definitely didn't get the human thing anymore, but Rick saw more than he let on. Ben wonders sometimes, if he didn't leave because he knew he wasn't wanted with 2nd Mass anymore than the aliens.

But only most adults. Only most adults were like that.

Dai, though, never seemed to be. Like Ben could ever really read him, but then not many other people could either.

But Pope would give Ben looks a lot. Long before Jimmy. Looks jagged edged in their bitterness, their hatred, always tracing up and down his back. Never when his dad was around, of course, Pope's death wish didn't extend quite that far. 

But he always did back off. Eventually. And Ben loves his dad, but honestly, history professor isn’t very scary. Dai, though. His mere presence, sometimes, held a weight that didn’t need words. One long, inviting meeting of eyes and Pope couldn’t leave fast enough.

And he looked after Rick. He and Anne, but Rick took to Dai the most. Despite the scowling, the first few weeks. So Ben wonders sometimes if Rick left because he wasn't home, but sometimes he thinks he found a new one, with them. 

Maybe Rick just left. Maybe there was no reason.

No reason Ben could ever figure out. It's not like it really matters anymore.

But the biggest reason Ben knows Dai wasn't afraid of the spikes or what they stood for, is because he backed him, that night with the rebel skitters. So did his dad, Hal, Maggie, and a lot of other people.

But they kept glancing over their shoulders.

The only time Dai ever looked away from the soldiers in front of them was when Ben took his hand. Hesitantly, because half a year wasn't a long time. And you didn't have to know Dai long to know he didn't like being touched.

But he let Ben take it, lace their fingers together. Let him hold on tight. The only sign Ben would give, outwardly, that for all the brave front he was really just terrified out of his mind.

That they'd shoot first, ask questions later anyway.

It's not really clear to Ben why he reached out to his left, and not his right. Not to his dad, but to a man he barely knew. 

But yeah, Ben gets why Hal loved Dai, because he let Ben hold his hand hard enough his own fingers cramped for like half an hour after. Without a word. Just because Ben needed it.

“Not as long doesn't mean not as well as your bros.”

Ben looks up, staring at Denny. She just grins, reaches out and ruffles his hair.

“See ya, Benji,” she calls over her shoulder.

She's racing off while Ben scowls, patting his hair back down into some semblance of order.

He sighs. “I hate that name.”

But he should probably cut his losses and get over it. She's not going to stop. It's _Denny_.

Ben sighs again, abruptly reminded of the flower in his hand when he crushes another petal under his thumb. He smooths it out as best he can but it's really a lost cause.

Oh well. It's the thought that counts right?

He crouches down in front of the cross, staring at the ground for a while. After a beat, Ben reaches out and lays it right up against the wooden post dug into the ground.

It's a little pathetic looking. But it's as blue, almost matches, the shade of that vest Anthony always ragged Dai on about wearing.

He stands, brushing dirt off his pants and walks off. Ben just wanders, no real destination in mind. He tries to avoid Hal, though, because what does he say to him? What does he say that won't get them in another fight?

One sided fight, because Hal's in a wheelchair now, and Ben's pretty sure he's quick enough to avoid any punches his brother might decide to throw. 

But Hal doesn't need that. Not right now.

In avoiding Hal, Ben stumbles across their father instead. Sitting on top of a grassy hill, Tom's back to his son, his shoulders are hunched over and every so often he shivers, like he's cold. Or, well.

Ben's footsteps falter. Or, well, indeed.

He goes to his dad then, because now that he thinks about it, Tom wasn't around when Tector and Anthony buried Dai. Hal was up and rolling around by then. Even Anne, shaken up about Karen as she was, stood at the small ceremony, but not Tom.

Tom stiffens before Ben reaches his side. He scrubs at his eyes with the sleeve of his jacket. Ben waits him out.

“Ben,” Tom says, clears his throat, “need something?”

Ben just shakes his head, and they lapse into quiet. But not uncomfortable. Just quiet.

“You weren't there at the funeral,” Ben says.

Testing.

Tom looks away. Shrugs. He clears his throat, scratches the side of his face. And then abruptly stands, like he can't stand sitting down anymore. Or maybe, maybe Ben's just on the right track.

So Ben climbs to his feet too. He speaks out before Tom can leave.

“You know,” he says, catching his dad's attention again, “ you always told me it was okay to cry, sometimes, when I skinned my knee or Hal was being a jerk again.”

Tom smiles, even through the return of tears Ben pretends he doesn't see. Reminder of better days.

“But it's okay for dads to cry, too.”

And Tom looks at him, hard. Like he's seeing him for the first time. _Really seeing_.

Ben kind of expects the hug, to be honest, so he lets himself be drawn in when his dad reaches for him. Doesn't complain that he's holding a little too tight. Pretends not to notice the first ragged breath of a sob, because he never realized it but.

But Ben's crying too.

He blinks. Didn't think he'd be affected this much. Hal knew Dai better. It's not _right_ , some part of Ben thinks, that he's this upset.

He didn't know Dai that long. That well.

But then, maybe it doesn't matter. Maybe it never matters when its _family_.

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to my mom. RIP.


End file.
